Paris: For openers, the Padres are fading from the start

San Diego Padres starting pitcher Clayton Richard stands on the mound after giving up a two-run home run to New York Mets Ike Davis, right, in the fifth inning of a baseball game Wednesday, April 3, 2013, in New York. (AP Photo/Mark Lennihan)
— AP

San Diego Padres starting pitcher Clayton Richard stands on the mound after giving up a two-run home run to New York Mets Ike Davis, right, in the fifth inning of a baseball game Wednesday, April 3, 2013, in New York. (AP Photo/Mark Lennihan)
/ AP

They stumble into Petco Park for the home opener at 1-5, seemingly out of it before most fans got into the season.

The Padres, who face the Dodgers on Tuesday, aren't very good.

We knew that based on their underwhelming payroll, the lack of a draft pipeline producing decent players (save Jedd Gyorko) and injuries. Although that last reason is always the first exit on the highway of excuses.

The Padres' starting rotation – it absorbed all five losses – is as shaky as where the Dodgers call home.

No surprise as the Padres did little in the offseason to fortify the most important component of any team. A squad without decent arms up front spends the year backing up.

The run-producers are either hurt, suspended or have a hitch in their gallop.

That was obvious in spring training after slugger Chase Headley fractured his thumb, catcher Yasmani Grandal's hand was caught in the PED jar and outfielder Carlos Quentin's knee was handled as if it was radioactive.

Center fielder Cameron Maybin? All you need to know is he bats deep in an order which lacks hitters.

The Padres are the Padres, and if expecting better, clean those rose-colored glasses or reveal a pay stub not stamped by Padres, Inc.

But we suggest sitting back and embracing Tuesday, even with what the Padres offer. If there is one day complaining takes off, this is it.

OK, that notion goes down like Two-Buck Chuck instead of vintage vino. And the more I write it, the more unreasonable it sounds.

Padres customers are bent. They're mad. They're rifling off e-mails, venting in Padres story comments and clogging sports radio talk shows with venom.

We understand the years of frustration accentuated by a series of sub-par seasons. Then there's this April (1-5), which looks like last April (7-15), which is a reflection no Padres honk is eager to view.

Like a scorned lover, Padres fans are tired of broken promises. They're weary of seeing their team on the bottom, disgusted that the new bosses don't sound, or spend, much differently than the old ones.

The Padres stood pat this offseason, declining to shed money or get creative with trades to bolster a squad which finished 18 games from first place. The Padres' brass pointed to last year's encouraging second half for being idle, but fail to mention that squad lost 10 of its final 15 games.

But step away from the ledge, consume this message, and know it arrives via an adult who is familiar with the game and was raised a die-hard Padres booster.

“We're all just getting going. Once we all get into the flow of things, baseball levels out. It's a long season and you're going to have your ups and downs. It's going to be like that all year.''

Good tip, but that comes from Adrian Gonzalez talking about his Dodgers. His bunch is 4-2 and looks for another gear.

The Padres have lost five of six and seek better at-bats, pitcher outings, innings, energy – anything!

So until the Padres can brag of their roster – check back, say, 2014 – they sell their spiffy stadium. That was Monday's scene, as Padres CEO Tom Garfinkel presented his bridge over troubled April waters: the new fences.

Garfinkel and Josh Stein, director of baseball operations, unveiled the revamped outfield dimensions, with the right-field wall topped by the cozy Jack Daniel's Old No. 7 Club. There's a line in there about a squad hitting .204 driving one to drink, but we'll save it.

Instead, we heap praise on the Padres, and when did we type that last?

The Old No. 7 area – with a capacity of 70 – is downright cool. It'll be a hit among those longing to be poised on the perch of the action.

From the Old No. 7 porch, one could see manager Bud Black reliving his old pitching days. Black was gauging how the ball ricochets off the outfield cushion on extra-base hits, repeatedly heaving it at the padded wall.

At least customers in the new digs can't come in contact with a live ball, or that's the premise.

“After a couple of Jack Daniel's,'' Black said, “they will.''

But Black split, off doing what skippers of clubs playing at a .167 winning percentage do: trying to flip the page on an early read that shows his nine getting outscored, 40-14.

Black is cagey. Maybe it was his doing, the scoreboard showing the Padres prevailing over the world champion Giants, 6-5. We know it was some kind of hocus-pocus because Maybin was hitting .260.

Maybe this will be the Padres' worst season ever, and that's a mouthful.